The Last Trip
by vertigo.jm
Summary: Draco is leaving London after the war, he's leaving the only thing he's ever wanted to live for behind, how will he cope? HD. Slash.


**The Last Trip**

By Vertigo

He sat still. Night had fallen not a long while ago; he assumed it was around eight, perhaps eight thirty, in the evening. It didn't really matter. Nothing mattered much anymore. He let escape, through partially open lips, a tired sigh, nothing escaped him much these days and this display of emotion surprised him. Perhaps masking his emotions weren't as easy as it had been before. He looked around; he was alone, always alone, so really, who did he need to hide his feelings from? … precisely. No one. He was, after all, completely alone.

The train moved forward and his heart beat got faster as it moved. He was leaving, leaving home, leaving England, leaving for good. Or bad. He still wasn't sure. Not that he had wanted to do it, mind you; none of them had any choice anyway. He didn't blame his situation on Harry, or anyone who had chosen the right side of the war from the beginning. But it still annoyed him that he could hear his father's voice in the back of his head, _'Malfoy's do not run away'_, there's always a first time for everything.

Harry. It had been such a long time since he last saw him. Since the last Order meeting to be exact; it had been so long since they had last been together, _really_ been together; without Weasley sneering at him, without Granger looking doubtful, without McGonagall and Snape looking more than a little disapproving. Thankfully Harry had never listened to anyone but himself. Never cared what the others thought of him. Thankfully.

A child was crying in a compartment nearby; a mother was berating her spoilt son on the corridor, the boy refused to leave without some kind of muggle candy. Spoilt. That single word reminded him of so much; of himself, his family, his mother and father; but specifically of his old house elves. Who would've thought, that Draco Malfoy would spare a thought for his house elves, his servants; but really they had been the ones who had spoilt him rotten.

He rested his forehead against the cool window. Closing his tired eyes. The low rumble of the train's tracks and its movement lulled him into a false sense of calmness. Not that he would sleep. Unlike the other passengers, he never slept. Not when Harry wasn't with him, not when the raven-haired man wasn't there to protect him from his nightmares, his fears.

He wondered where the man was now. He wondered if people were toasting on Harry's name, or cursing him for having survived the battle. Harry still couldn't grasp everything that had happened in only a few hours. Harry. His Harry. Had lead the Order of the Phoenix into battle, and after battling with a more Death Eaters anyone cared to count he had killed Voldemort. His Harry had defeated the Darkest of Wizards. He had found all Horcruxes and done what was expected from him. Certainly one could understand how impossible it was to grasp this. He supposed muggles felt this way when they found out about his world.

Draco pulled his traveling cloak closer to himself, the night was exceptionally warm, for autumn but still, he couldn't help but feel cold. He shivered against his cloak before trying to find a blanket somewhere. Thankfully there was one underneath his seat. Warmth. Draco sighted, feeling a little better.

He stared out of the window, if he had been in a better mood. If he hadn't just left behind the one he loved, if he hadn't been made to leave by the same, perhaps he would've appreciated the splendid view. He was surrounded by mountains, it was dark, but Draco supposed they were exceedingly green mountains with a touch of snow on their high tops. He wondered how it would've been to ride his broomstick to them. But thinking of being in the air brought him back to thinking of Harry. Again.

He knew that no matter what not even Harry could save him from a sentence in Azkaban. Only Dumbledore could've done that, but he was long gone, back in his sixth year, and it was Draco's fault he had been killed. It was his own fault that the one everyone looked up to was murdered by one of his most trusted men. Thankfully Harry couldn't believe Snape had done that, he had looked for both of them, Snape and Draco, he had searched them until he cleared all that was left to be cleared. And it was then when everything started. Their story together started.

A single tear slid down the side of his face, he hated being alone, simply hated it. He hated being taken away from Harry. Hated having had a Death Eater for a father. He hated that he had wholeheartedly agreed to the idea of becoming one of them. Of killing muggles for sport. It disgusted him, it irritated him.

Light footsteps coming down the corridor took him away from his reverie. He closed his eyes, willing his tears to dry, and rested his forehead against the window once more, taking deep calming breaths. The footsteps stopped close by. Draco supposed they had stopped by his door. No one came in, but he knew the stranger had his hand on the doorknob. Draco wished him to go away, to leave him be. Leave him alone.

The stranger didn't seem to hear his silent plea. The door opened, Draco's eyes remained closed, the stranger said nothing.

A desperate sigh.

"Draco?" a man called calmly.

Draco's eyes snapped open; his head turning painfully fast towards the stranger. No, not a stranger at all.

"Harry?" asked Draco. "Harry is that really you?" he asked in a small disbelieving voice.

"Yes, of course it' me."

"Oh thank Salazar your here," the blond said leaving his seat.

He took Harry by the hand sitting him by his side and throwing his arms around his neck in a hug. Draco needed him there, his only support, the only person that mattered, the only one he cared about. Draco only got a glimpse of the boy on the final battle, and it had scared, he just received a few letters and fire calls afterwards. He hadn't seen Harry for over a week.

"I just couldn't let you travel on your own. I know how you hate being alone," Harry explained. "And I just simply couldn't stand those damn parties."

"Not alone Harry. Without you, I just can't stand being without you Potter," Draco explained. "It's horrible to depend on someone like that, and yet, it's just wonderful to have you here."

Draco leaned into to kiss the only person he had ever truly cared about. Harry eagerly responded him, much like him, missing their time together; he pulled the blond closer to him, not willing to let him go. Draco gave in, practically melting into Harry.

"Don't worry, I talked to the Minister he understood yours and Severus' situation, you'll be given a full pardon," explained Harry, who had pulled away enough to look at Draco in the eye. "Where you crying Draco?" he asked suspiciously.

"I told you I hated being without you," he said without looking at Harry.

"You were," Harry said passionately, cleaning the tears away. "You're so sweet," he said lovingly.

"I may be gorgeous, a sex god even, but I am _not _ sweet Harry," he pouted.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever pleases you."

Draco raised an elegant eyebrow, grinning mischievously. Harry blushed at the double-meaning.

"So, I'll be able to go back?" Harry nodded. "With you?"

"Yes Draco with me."

"You do know Harry, that the Ministry has taken control of everything that carries the Malfoy name in it and that I do not have a house anymore?" questioned Draco.

"You'll just have to come live with me then," said Harry shyly.

"As in, move in to Grimmauld Place?" Harry nodded. "Have I been told the truth, but hasn't the Order moved to other headquarters'?" Harry nodded once more. "Are you telling me that we'll be leaving alone at Grimmauld Place?"

"I s'pose," Harry said quietly. "If it okay with you of course."

"Just dandy," he said before leaning forward and ravishing Harry's mouth with his own. "Just what I needed Harry," whispered Draco, in Harry's ear.

He let himself get carried into the kiss and knew no more. He wasn't alone. He had Harry. He was going back home, actually, he'd really have a home. Somehow nothing mattered anymore.


End file.
